


4,3,2,1

by exbex



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: First Time, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-02
Updated: 2012-01-02
Packaged: 2017-10-28 18:34:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 606
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/310907
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/exbex/pseuds/exbex





	4,3,2,1

4

“I can’t do this,” Sherlock runs his fingers through his hair, expression frustrated, as he backs away from John.  
John inhales and exhales slowly. “Do you mean now, or ever?”

“I mean now,” Sherlock tries to scowl, but it looks more despondent, and, since John spends so much of his waking time with him and can read what others can’t, scared.

John is only half-hard, and not interested in rushing. Exhaustion is also coming up on both of them. “It’s late,” he offers.

“I don’t want you to leave,” Sherlock says, and John knows that this admission isn’t easy. He tries to give a reassuring smile. “I’m going to go get some pyjamas, and then

I’ll come back, alright?”

When he wakes up the next morning, Sherlock has his arms slung possessively around him, and John has his scent filling his nostrils. John decides there are worse things in life than waiting.

3  
When Sherlock feels John’s erection against his thigh, he places his palms on John’s shoulders and pushes him away before letting out a frustrated breath and glaring at the ceiling.

John pushes himself, somewhat awkwardly, up from the couch and away from Sherlock. He’s rock hard this time, desperately needing some kind of release. “Um, I’m just going to go…take care of this,” he says while gesturing in the general area of his crotch.

“May I watch you?” Sherlock has propped himself up on his elbows, his eyes wide and penetrating. He mistakes John’s silence for awkwardness, and winces slightly. “I just think it might…help.”

John is really only silent because he’s just had a fresh wave of arousal course through him at the thought of Sherlock watching him while he gets off. “Right. Just..give me a minute?”

He retrieves the lube, bought in a moment of optimism, from his own room and joins Sherlock in his, conscious of those frank, assessing eyes roaming over him as he undresses. He’s oddly unselfconscious as he squeezes lubricant into his hand and begins to stroke his cock and cup his balls. Sherlock sits, knees drawn to his chest, against the headboard, watching intently, and John finds it all strangely comforting. Sherlock’s eyes widen with interest as John ejaculates in his own hand and on his stomach. “Don’t move,” Sherlock murmurs and hurries out of the room, returning just a few moments later with some slides to collect semen. “Next time,” Sherlock says, somewhat breathlessly, “I want you to ejaculate on my chest.”

John groans.

2

The next time John braces his hands against the headboard while Sherlock strokes him, tentatively and inexpertly.

1

It takes them some minutes to figure out the logistics, finally having to separate in order to undress and leave their clothes behind. Sherlock slowly lowers himself on the bed and closes his eyes while John carefully settles between his legs and slowly rocks back and forth. Sherlock buries his hands in John’s hair and John nestles his face in the crook between Sherlock’s neck and shoulder. “You’re gorgeous,” he mutters and is answered with a breathless “hmm..”

It’s over quickly, for both of them, and when John pulls back to gauge Sherlock’s reaction, he bites his lower lip as Sherlock gasps, eyes closed. Sherlock pries them open and gives John one of his rare smiles. “We should do this more often.” There’s just a hint of shaking in his voice. John finds his t-shirt and uses it to clean both of them up before climbing into bed and slinging one leg to tangle up with Sherlock’s.

The clock strikes twelve and the city streets hum along outside.


End file.
